PS 3515 
.P828 
1917 
^opy 1 



A Collection of Poems 



"By 



Lyde Todd Haskins 



A Collection of Poems 

Copyright, ipi/, by Lyde Todd Haskins 



MAY 1 1 19(7 



Coming of the Soldier Boys 

(1899) 

All shout welcome ! both the young and old ! 
Kind Providence returns our boys, the bold. 
Welcome the brave from others' deals, 
Their hearts to duty done, our homage yields. 
No more "hard-tack," nor suspicious beef. 
No more Eagan turn to give a relief, 
No more struggle nor encampment strife — 
For them Kentucky and placid life. 
The war witli them is o'er and we say 
Their home is here and they have come to stay. 
To sweethearts and loved ones they have come 
And naught was laid from shell nor bomb. 
* * * * 

A Memorial 

Hear of aspiring, fair Miss Dorset, 
Who a model would appear 
Outside here embracing ( ) ; 

At the broad-ribbed she would sneer. 
"I'll look neat and look petite," 
So snugly she drew the gear. 

Later, seldom noticed 'twas she'd smile. 

To laugh her constant fear. 

At dining she sat the briefest while 

For a model she would appear. 

Just to look neat and look petite 

More snugly she drew the gear. 

The roses yellowed on her face. 

Blue lips showed symptoms drear; 

French heels were dragged in slowest pace. 

But a model she chose to appear 

And would look neat, would look petite — 

Closer yet she drew the gear. 

The brilliance dulled far back in her eyes, 
Her breathing shorter efforts, here. 
The cause? her answer cjuick denies, 
For a model she would appear 
And would look neat and look petite — 
Together she drew her gear. 

Then pulseless tiiid'iconc^uei-ed anatomy lay. 
Were sad her parting words to hear, 
Thro vanity, vanity that will live alway. 
Even then a model she would appear — 
"My last wish to look neat and look petite" — 
The furled idol with flowers was placed on her bier. 



A Letter 

Of the oft said amount 

You have placed in my account, 

This "dollar and two" 

So long past due, 

I've endeavored to find 

From vision and mind 

Some trace of its worth, 

For gold is now dearth. 

Futile the attempt. 

From this task not exempt. 

Of all I'll explain 

Nor would longer refrain ; 

You in courtesy I accost, 

Your patience do not exhaust. 

In truth 'tis a need 

We must nurture, feed. 

Your loss, not my intent. 

For a letter I have sent 

That contained one rec|uest 

Well meant, void of jest. 

I repeat it, itemize 

The bill you would realize — 

For this poem sent to you. 

Your indebtedness, "dollar and two." 

^ -I^ -r 'T 

A Miniature Portrait 

(1903) 
A true delight for leisure sight 
This paragon of beauteous grace. 
Were Paris's voice now heard in choice 
'Twould be the fair Virginia's face. 

None but could tell this former belle, 
Petite and proud yet thoughtful, too, 
Virginia fair with jetty hair 
And eyes bewitching blue. 

Forsooth, it seems, the poet deems, 
Obeying nymphs with eyes intent 
Knelt by a repose and 'fore they arose 
Left sea shells there the gods had sent. 

Seems they did heed her ev'ry need 
Near to perfection of her type 
Of womanhood ; Decimo good 
Decreed for e'er the fortunes ripe. 

The friends essay to haste the day 

Of her return for duties light. 

That bring the smiles and cause the whiles 

Of inspiration, the poet's might. 

©CI.A4r)0715 



An Immortal Influence 

This universal power of earth 

To nation's combats, gives peace a birth ; 

Has caused the lazy to work a while 
And gives maiden ladies a peculiar smile; 
It has profited the shrewd to them an agent deai. 
Independent practitioners have leaned the accepting ear. 
It has paused the aroused tongue of prepared malicious 

course, 
Assuaged proposing bachelors' most awkward hoarse, 
Has inspired the conventional to deviate his key. 
And lifted the social aspirant a definite degree. 
It has silenced the talkative to thoughts most wise, 
And restrained the Cjueen's deep-wonted sighs. 
It has created a youth in the shrunken old, 
And persuaded the miser to will his gold. 
Has induced the reticent to speak a long part. 
And absorbed the indifi'erent with all mind and heart. 
It has braced the despondent ill to a believing hope 
And elevated the head of the school boy mope. 
It has lulled the observing poor to more contented 

hours. 
Mother's new appreciations press closer lisping flowers. 
It has smoothed the stern warrior's l)old, menacing 

frown, 
And pleased the king to risk the crown. 
To young girls it's a magic for thro the scantest bit 
They are sustained buxom through the exchange of it. 
The universal Compliment whether prose or rhyme. 
In quantity and quality occasioned any time. 
* * * * 

A Brief Soliloquy of a Pill 

(1901) 

Insipid, sweet, or bitter, wdiether. 

Round, oblong, or flat, or square. 

Or white, or black, green, pink or brown — 

And many names I'm called. 

No laughter e'er my purpose thwarts. 

For charity is my intent. 

Ungrateful is the one 

Who stares at me with great alarm 

And lips pressed tightly in prompt despair. 

With peace of diaphragm at stake. 

Deferred in hands inclined to throw 

What substitute could one prefer? 

I'd give of ev'ry good that I possess — 

If chronic, novice ones make haste — 

If I could ask, ah, draught with me 

Tomorrow's praise and the Universe 

Would accept me as I am. 



Two 

They have caught and hold the usual smile, 
Uf weight, their duties, unknown to simple life ; 
None but the few are ever worth while, 
To be "among those present" is ever their strife. 

She weeps o'er the loss of Teddy's ear and nose 
And the rude track on her pet dog's grave ; 
Baby's ill, nurse tends, to amusements she goes, 
To endure it all she's a soldier brave. 

Her picture's for the paper in attractive pose, 
Like a cloud-maid afloat in the stormy sky. 
With a book in her hand, cultured, she knows. 
Or dreamily watching the stream gone dry. 

She bids farewell to dimmed blooms on her hat. 
Recalling each compliment heard. 
Ah, she's a mind to remember all that, 
She can cjuote each emj^hasized word. 

Then she bends o'er his pale blue mandolin 
Which attack he trembles like a waving tree. 
While she plans new gowns, invitations to win 
And trips to new points "others present" to see. 

She possesses all things for her very own 
Nor the least in vogue would she lack. 
Her latest purchase, her lord's latest moan, 
i])'^ mother's sympathy his pockets repack. 

They have caught and hold the usual smile. 
Their public linguae is for public life, 
Nothing but show is ever worth while. 
To keep "among those present" will be their strife. 



Tis Sprino^ 



Come out, for ev'rywhere 'tis Spring. 
The golden poppies thro fields aglow. 
The ze])hyrs waft the violets sweet. 
The almond blooms are white as snow 
All-colored tulips greet. 

The daft'odils near, pansies bright, 
The palms wave o'er the ivy green. 
Exultant larks in joyous flight. 
The carols from the thrushes seen. 
There's sunshine ev'rywhere — 'tis Spring. 



A Fable 

'Twas in a flowery, woodland vale 

Where the divulger of this tale 

Mid shadowy leaves neath vine-draped mossy boughs, 

Heard a warbler's soulful song, 

That held the passer long. 

Inspired she sang to heaven her sacred vows. 

A listening wise old owl 

Wore a momentary scowl, 

For the warbler would not sing to him of love. 

He told to her his choice 

In his all-commanding voice, 

That she sing to him her sweetest from above. 

In a nest not far away 

His mate and owlies gray 

Were lonesome in a tall and charred oak tree. 

Their pensive, low "to-who?" 

Was a strangeness to them new. 

As near a sanctum bough the owl would be. 

On a moonlit, starry night 

The warbler planned her flight. 

Stilled her song and drew her head beneath he. 

While he heard their sad "to-who?" 

The owl more thoughtful grew. 

Embittered memories for e'er might cling. 

A bird oi Paradise 
His heart then did entice. 

As darkening clouds passed by he drooped his head. 
He heard their sad "to-who?" 
Toward their nest "to you! to you!" 
And for his mate's old dearest song he plead. 
* * * * 

Kentucky's Weed 

Sow them in the plant bed, those tiny brown seed. 

In the kind of soil to produce the valued weed. 

Then at the proper season set the plants out. 

For the consuming objects view the leaves about. 

Cut the stems before the frost to dry upon the scattold. 

Then leaf them and tie into hands to be raflled. 

Suspend it in the barn till it's "in case" from the ram. 

Strip and then bundle with the rustic's cheered refram. 

Load it in the wagon, then haul it to the place 

Where it's to stop in line to be auctioneered apace. 

It's near a twelve-month care for the tending of this weed, 

That since Columbus landed it's a universal weed. 

It's to dye, to sniff, exterminate and fertilize. 

It's to reduce the debt and bring sweets with baby s prize. 

From the pipe, rings of peace ; from the plug, her Imgu a lash 

To be the Trust's fortune in lug, leaf and trash. 



A Favorite 

Facetious, winsome, debonair, 

With voice so richly sweet, 

And nymphly grace, hers, charming, rare, 

In lovehness complete. 

Unselfish and devoid of guile. 
Nor Juno's fault is hers; 
All youths enamored wuh her smile. 
Dislike of none incurs. 

Nor would she scorn the wooer least. 
Nor deem it gay nor best 
To feign regard that love increased, 
Impassioned ones attest. 

Her innate kindliness dispels 
Malicious-languaged mirth. 
No perfidy e'er hers which tells 
Her known transcendent worth. 



Of Miss Helen Gould 

(1902) 
Come, muse of this profoundest art 
Oft called, preside now o'er my pen 
Nor mayst thou depart 
'Till I have sung of Helen, then 
Thy leave and respite take. 
Of Helen who hath yet not learned? 
Some heavenly goddess chose to bring 
Divinest gifts to her whom none haih spurned. 
Joy, mine to sing. 
For heiress too, of wisdom, she. 
In briefest praise delighted most, 
Eschews that sordid pride to be 
A kind redresser hating boast. 
Hers, a beauty the sculptor craves, 
A model for his dexterous hand. 
Hers, a smile that the artist saves 
Despite the gentle command. 
'Tis a happy doom 

O Flora's care that are for Helen grown. 
The meadow flower and mountain bloom 
Now worn where jewels previous shone. 
Abundant cheer for all, her thought, 
A sweet contentment finds, and frccjuent sought. 
Continued homage to her not amiss. 
Write her name with immortal hand, 
Helen, noblest heiress of the land. 



Lullaby 



Rockaby, lullaby, clouds pass the moon, 

Are you now restmg, clear baby mine? 
Rockaby, lullaby, twilignt came soon ; 

1 tend you, baby mine. 
Jessamines white all their fragrance unfold. 

Wee, precious baby of mine. 
I'll rock you lightly and gently will hold 

You in my arms, baby mine. 

Rockaby, lullaby, sounds low, comes the night, 

Urowsy blue eyes no longer can ope. 
Rockaby. lullaby, e'en one kiss might 

Wake you, sweet baby mine. 
( )h, on the morrow a thousand I'll press 

( )n your soft brow, baby mine. 
Nor can you ever so gently caress 

Me, helpless joy, baby mine. 

Rockaby, lullaby, lonely, the hour. 

Slumber, my darling, dear baby mine. 
Rockal)y, lullaby, mine only flower, 

Slumber, fair treasure mine. 
Mother still rocks you and looks o'er the lea. 

Slumber dear Angel of mine. 
Jesus kept father safe for you and me. 

Dream on, then, dear baby mine. 

(In "lems of Poesy." Copyrighted l'>04.) 
(Music to "Lullaby" will soon be published by 
the author.) 



Music 

Pause where the wind thro the sacred pines 

Breathes to the world its own lament ; 

Where the timid streams thro rippled lines 

Among rocks purl low their discontent. 

List to the dove in plaintive call. 

The lonely coo response might bring. 

The sound of oars in regular fall 

F.choed thro channels, the indolent swing. 

The thunder's break with commanding roar 

Trembling the sky and fearful earth. 

The sea's expiate moan to the trancjuil shore. 

Springtime's harmonies, accordant mirth. 

Lo. the muffled chimes that toll a hymn 

Thro reverent tones that lead the soul 

In the autumn hour to heaven's brim 

Near the holy shrine of mortality's goal. 



The Strollers 

Now, important, the aspect, with confident smiles, 
For the colors and fits were the latest bought styles. 
Of that maiden and youth of one spirit the day 
'Twas decided to take a stroll out a far way. 
Nor selected the by-path scenes for their view 
But did stroll out Broadway then Fifth Avenue ; 
Nor did tire they of aught in the old Dutch town. 
But continued the stroll and did feel their renown. 
Unobserved, the attractions they frequently passed, 
But indifferent, they, for their thoughts were then cast 
On their colors and fits of the latest bought styles 
Which appeared as they wished for the glorious whiles. 
Ovit the thorofare into the narrow wheel gate 
Of that Park so extensive, where wonders await. 
Energetic their walk with emphatic sound 
For achievement, their project, tho silently bound. 
The Museum, first, with the curios, art. 
The display for their pleasure afiforded no part. 
Then apace, crossed the bridge for the mall neath the elms 
By the seats for spectators, fatigue overwhelms. 
The attainment was that a great efifort be made 
And accordingly strolled on a stern promenade. 
The minutest observance for each they had won 
Then departed for greater success had begun. 
The ambitious delights ne'er before were as keen 
And forgetful that hours had been flying unseen. 
They uplifted their heads with more gratified souls. 
To the Ramble caprice lured them on in their strolls. 
And their colors and fits of the latest bought styles 
On the lake might reflect they conceived in their smiles. 
But the din of the late crowd soon occasioned their return, 
Condescending, their glances, alarmed in concerned, 
The contrasted appearance — not eagerly bold 
In approaching the crowd, they reluctantly strolled. 
The merry advance they had watched in a fear 
And more vexed had become when the late crowd drew near; 
Turned their gazes a-ground, their minds were depressed, 
Disappointment possessed them as all they had guessed. 
They were changed so in aspect, devoid of a smile ; 
Both their colors and fits out of date in each style 
And were chosen the by-path scenes for their view 
From the throngs of Broadway and Fifth Avenue-^ 
Their thoughts of themselves, in their haste, were so drear. 
Their homes were soon reached for Obscurity's cheer. 
******* 

Superficial are vanities, they but annoy. 
Ill preferred are the fancies to studied employ. 
And exhaustless the labors that gain best result — 
Meritorious products will ne'er be occult. 



At the Rink 

How merr}^ the streets 

Toward the rink. 
How stinting time tweets 

At the rink. 
When the rolHng. strenuous noise 
Is heard with music's joys 
By attendant girls and boys 

At the rink. 



There's a force of gravitation 

At the rink ; 
But more's the determination 

At the rink. 
Ah, alas, the greatest mirth 
For the novice is but dearth 
Since he left his native hearth 

For the rink. 

The champion's faultless hour 

At the rink, 
Scatters praises in a shower 

At the rink. 
For each chosen straight or curve 
Flis steady grace will serve 
From the" intruder's aimless swerve 

At the rink. 

There've been hearts with the hands 

At the rink, 
United in firm-pledged stands 

At the rink. 
No fidelities purloined 
From the lives that were joined 
Thro the friendships that were coinea 

At the rink. 



The Future of Endish Verse 

Tlie mass of the reading English have so learned to appre- 
ciate thought expressed in verse that poetry has become an 
essential luxury. 

in the history of English literature, since the early rhym- 
ists of the fourth century there was never so great a demand 
for poetry as the present time and this demand is supplied by 
the contniual introductic/n of unknown poets thro papers, and 
magazines that are devoting pages to poetry. 

What is so pleasing and simultaneously impressive as 
fancy and fact poetically treated? Not infrequently a play, 
discourse or book is held in remembrance by forceful rhymes. 

A lawyer stated that he had won a case thro a relevant 
prosodical ciuotation. 

The assertion that the rhymes have all been "usetl up" 
has been made in proof of the non-existence of English verse. 
Many poets have repeatedly employed the same rhymes, but 
of the multifarious thoughts that may call the same rhymes 
into use no estimate could be made. Thought is the substance 
of verse, rhyme one of the additional charms. 

As to the merit of poems much mediocre verse finds a pub- 
lisher, is quoted, perhaps, and forgotten ; while the perma- 
nently appealing, worthy of perpetuation, maintains a superior 
and lasting usefulness. 

In vocal music nothing so accurately accords with a 
decided tempo as a definite metrical arrangement of words. 
Prose of no recognized rhythm cannot be successfully substi- 
tuted for poetry. And will not the nation ever have its 
national song and the popular ballads? 

So long as immortal poets are read, and inspiration 
created ; so long as the heart can be touched thro pathos and 
cheer ; so long as technical variation is employed ; so long as 
new words are coined and the foreign words domesticated, 

All the rhymes 
For future times 

can never be "used up" — these insure the future of English 
verse. 



IN. 



